


Under My Skin

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Jackson Whittemore, Consensual Underage Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting As Foreplay, First Time, Hate Sex, Jackson Stays in Beacon Hills, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Rimming, Snark, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, They are both 16, Top Stiles Stilinski, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After ten years, Stiles knows exactly how to get under Jackson's skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onereader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereader/gifts).



> shealwaysreads prompted: 'Come Over Here and Make Me' for *drumroll* STACKSON!!!

If Derek doesn’t get his puppies under control soon, Stiles is going to neuter them. Well, Boyd just ignores him usually, and Erica’s alright, so it’s mostly Isaac and Jackson who are in danger of losing their balls. Isaac is annoying, but he isn’t as obnoxious as he was in the beginning so that’s a small improvement. They don’t like each other very much, and Stiles is cool with that so long as they are can tolerate each other well enough to work together when there is dangerous pack business. So, okay, there’s really only one puppy who needs to get his head out of his ass before Stiles neuters him, and, shocker shocker, it’s Jackson.

Jackson seems to have made tormenting Stiles his goal in life. That’s always been one of his favorite pastimes, of course, starting in kindergarten when they were six years old. No one would ever believe it, but they actually met and declared each other best friends the first day, but, by month three, that friendship had dissolved because one day Stiles had refused to share his blue crayon when Jackson had demanded it, not wanting to think outside the box by coloring the sky purple like Stiles originally suggested. 

Yes, he still remembers the Blue Crayon Incident rather vividly because it had hurt losing his best friend over a fucking blue crayon, you know? Because Jackson didn’t like being told no, never has, and that not only ruined their friendship, but it set the tone for the next decade. Junior High had been especially difficult because it’s such an awkward few years as bodies are changing and sexualities are being figured out, and having Jackson always there ready with a cruel quip or arrogant smile had been rough, especially when Stiles’ sexuality realizations had involved Jackson’s pretty, yet obnoxiously smug, face.

But, hey, Stiles got used to it, and he figured out how annoyed Jackson got he and Scott became friends, so that like extra incentive to befriend the new kid, who was awesome and became his brother. Jackson also hated it whenever he talked about Lydia, so he played that up from the moment he realized it got under Jackson’s skin. Of course, that backfired since Jackson then set his popular athletic hottie sights on Lydia, and thus they became the legendary on again-off again couple of Beacon Hills. 

Besides those two things, he also remembers those brief months of childhood friendship enough to realize that Jackson hates being ignored, so he’s managed to reach a point where he can pretend Jackson isn’t even there whenever he really wants to, which actually isn’t often because he enjoys arguing with him. Just a little. Sometimes more than a little. Whatever. Now, though, it’s like the whole kanima thing changed the balance between them somehow, tipped things on their head, some other analogy he can’t think of right now that might explain it because he can’t, and he’s living through it. All he knows is that something changed, and it’s like Jackson is _constantly_ around trying to start fights or poking at Stiles until he snaps or just being there all of the time.

It’s so bad that Scott’s even noticed it, and he’s been distracted with the whole werewolf thing, and he’s busy with the whole Allison on again-off again relationship thing, so Stiles totally gets why his attention is elsewhere and not focused on his BFF’s crazy wolfy stalker but Scott _did_ notice, so it’s not just Stiles imagining things. This time. And like he and Scott are also dealing with the struggle of becoming part of Derek’s pack, especially since Scott had originally been reluctant to do so, and only really agreed to try because Stiles kept nagging him until he gave in, and Stiles isn’t even sure if he’s part of the pack, but he and Scott are a package deal, so the Hale Pack accepts him being around even if they might not like it.

It’s been almost a month since the kanima thing and Gerard Argent’s crazy torturing old man ass, though, and the pack thing is going alright. Derek’s still got some issues, but he almost lost two of his pack when Erica and Boyd left, so that was a nice wake-up call for him to get his shit together when they came back to give him another chance. Granted, Zombie Wolf being around is really weird, but Peter seems a little less crazy this time around, so he supposes it could be worse, even if he still likes delights in creeping on Stiles. But, yeah, Jackson’s whole attitude towards Stiles is working his nerves in a way it never has in the past decade, and he thinks he might need to tell Derek to interfere before he does finally react and neuters the pretty puppy.

Case in point, the reason he’s even thinking about all this, is today. From the minute Stiles pulled into the parking lot, Jackson has been insufferable and poking. He’d insisted on parking right next to Stiles’ Jeep, pulling in before Stiles could even get out of the car, almost like he’d been lurking around somewhere waiting to roar in to startle Stiles and make him drop his books on purpose. There had been smug smiles and quips about how clumsy Stiles is then Jackson had fucking followed him to his first class, insulting his clothes and his hair, which he hasn’t buzzed in like a month because he’s ready for a change and he doesn’t need Jackson’s critique, alright? He’s self-conscious enough as it is because it’s the first time he’s had hair in years. 

Anyway, every time Stiles leaves a classroom, Jackson is lurking in the hallway, walking right behind him the entire way to his next class. The only place he doesn’t follow him is the bathroom, thank God, because Stiles thinks he probably wouldn’t be able to piss if Jackson were lurking around providing commentary about how fast or slow his pissing speed is or whatever he could think of to insult about it. Hell, lunch hadn’t even provided any relief today because Jackson had been there, sitting right beside him, shoving him with his right arm and totally violating the concept of personal space.

His friends just think it’s funny, so they’re no help, and Danny just looks thoughtful whenever Stiles asks him to corral his best friend. It’s been getting worse over the last few weeks, but nothing like it’s been today. By the time they get to practice, Stiles is over it. He’s tired of ignoring it, tired of the baiting and constant insults, and he takes out some of his aggression on the field. Of course, that results in Coach giving him detention when he hits Jackson’s perfect face with his lacrosse stick during a break and actually manages to knock him down because he isn’t expecting it. However, Jackson gets detention, too, when he immediately tackles Stiles and presses him into the ground.

Detention consists of cleaning the equipment room, which requires another hour of Jackson glaring at him, muttering, and being an all-around fuckhead that makes pre-werewolf Jackson seem like Mr. Rogers. Stiles is focusing on ignoring him, enjoying the fact that it does totally still work because Jackson just gets angry and sullen when Stiles refuses to respond to his taunts. He’s too busy thinking about Jackson and the recent behavior change for the worse to even listen to him. 

When they finally finish with the equipment, he stops distracting himself with thoughts as they head to the locker room to shower and change. Everyone else is long gone by now, and Stiles is frustrated because Jackson still won’t stop poking at him. He pulls off his practice shirt and stuffs it into his bag, considering whether he wants to bother showering here or just wants to go home for some Jackson free peace.

“You should have warned me, Stilinski. I think your pale skin just blinded me,” Jackson sneers, pulling his own shirt off and flexing like there’s someone around to enjoy the show.

And, okay, Stiles might hate him with the intensity of a thousand suns, but Jackson is hot, alright? And he’s a horny bisexual sixteen year old, so he maybe _does_ enjoy the show, just a little, and he’ll deal with his shame over it later, probably after jerking off thinking about forcing Jackson to his knees and shutting him up with his dick. When he notices Jackson’s smug smile, he realizes he’s staring at Jackson’s biceps and his abs and—Stiles blinks suddenly. Is that a nipple ring?

“See something you like?” Jackson taunts, shoving his practice pants down in a way that makes the muscles in his arms tighten, and there’s one cord down his bicep that Stiles seriously thinks about licking because _damn_.

“You wish,” he says, forcing his attention back to his locker because he’s made it through the day with only one incident, and he just needs to make it through another few minutes until he can get away from Jackson. He’s just going to shower at home to remove himself from the temptation of trying to punch Jackson in his sharp cheekbone. It’d probably cut his fist anyway.

“Nah, I think you’re the one who wishes,” Jackson drawls, his tone so smug and self-satisfied that it grates on Stiles’ nerves. “You forget, I can smell it. You stink of desire, Stilinski. You want me, and you know it. Bet you’d spread those gangly legs if I snapped my fingers, beg me to fuck that tight ass, drop to your knees and suck me down in the middle of the lunch room if it meant you could finally have my dick.”

“Shut up,” Stiles growls, turning to glare at him. Jackson’s smirking, standing there in his jock strap and nothing else, looking at Stiles with that oddly intense stare he’s been using since the kanima stuff happened.

“Come over here and make me.” Jackson’s lips curve into a sneer. “Or are you too scared?”

Stiles snorts. “You don’t scare me, Jackson. That’s why you can’t stand me, isn’t it? Because I call you on your bullshit, and I don’t care what you say about me because I don’t like you. Your opinion doesn’t matter, and you hate that you’re such a non-entity to me because I get under your skin. It’s why you always try getting under mine, but it never works.”

Jackson laughs, but there’s no amusement in it, just sharp bitterness. “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried, _Stiles_.” His eyes flash beta blue as he takes a step forward. “I might not get under your skin the way you do mine, but I’m always the center of your world, whether you like it or not. I have been for ten years, and that isn’t changing any time soon. You might not like me, but you want me.”

“The center of my world?” Stiles scoffs as he takes a step towards Jackson. “You’re such an egomaniac. You aren’t even an _afterthought_ in my world. You could disappear tomorrow, and I’d be relieved to not have you constantly insulting me and making my life miserable,” he says confidently even as he realizes it’s a lie. Because Jackson did die, and it did matter because, well, he’s just part of Stiles’ life, the bad part but still a part of it, and it was strange to think about Jackson not being around tormenting him and arguing with him after a decade of it.

“Lie.” Jackson takes another step, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. “Fuck, you reek of arousal. Fighting with me turns you on so much, doesn’t it? I never knew you wanted me so badly that you were gagging for it, but I can smell it all over you. You should have just asked. With a mouth like that, I’d have used my dick to shut you up years ago if I knew you were desperate for it.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles crosses the last few steps between them and shoves Jackson’s shoulder. “I’m sixteen. A strong breeze can make me hard. It isn’t personal, and it’s certainly not because of you.” He refuses to look away from Jackson’s eyes, and he’s standing so close that he can make out a dusting of freckles on Jackson’s nose that somehow make him even more beautiful. Fucking asshole. “Why are you so obsessed with what gets me hard anyway, Jackson? Do you _want_ it to be you? Is that it? Are you the one gagging for my dick?”

“Fuck you,” Jackson snarls, pushing Stiles hard enough to make him stumble back a couple of steps. “I’m not obsessed with you!”

Stiles shoves Jackson against the lockers, knowing there’s no way he’d manage to do that unless Jackson is allowing it. Earlier, he’d caught him by surprise, and that’s the only reason he knocked him off-balance. He’s prepared right now, though, which means Jackson wants this to happen. His mind is reeling as he steps back, but Jackson reaches out, grabbing him by the waistband of his pants, and then Stiles is the one being shoved against the locker. They start fighting, just shoving each other until Stiles trips and takes Jackson down with him. Jackson is heavy, all muscle and bare skin, and Stiles pushes at him, rolling them over. They start wrestling, like they did during those few brief months of friendship so many years ago, only there’s nothing playful about it this time.

“I hate you,” Jackson growls against his ear as he pins Stiles to the floor. He grinds against his ass, a rather significant bulge rubbing against him. Stiles is hard, too, and he hates that it’s because of Jackson, but it’s not really a surprise because, well, he _does_ get off on arguing with him, even if it’s never been physical like this before. He shoves his ass up, knocking Jackson over, and Stiles moves faster than he realized he could, pinning him to the floor this time. Only Jackson’s not wearing practice pants like Stiles. He’s just got on his jock strap, which means Stiles is grinding against his bare ass right now. And what an ass it is. Fuck.

“I hate you, too,” he murmurs into Jackson’s ear as he rolls his hips, letting Jackson feel the large bulge in his pants. Jackson whines, so soft Stiles might not have heard it if he wasn’t right there, and he drops his head down, face against Jackson’s neck as he grinds into him. The tension between them is electric, palpable almost, and Stiles isn’t sure what they’re doing, figures Jackson doesn’t know, either, but it feels good, so why stop?

“Pants. Get them off,” Jackson mutters, reaching back to squeeze Stiles’ ass cheek.

“Seriously?” Stiles hears Jackson growl, and he reaches down to unfasten the pants, shoving them down. He’s wearing his jock strap now, so hard his dick is poking out of the cup, and he shoves that down to get it out of the way, too. Jackson’s ass is right there, a tight bubble butt that is absolutely perfect. Better than any Stiles has seen in porn, and he hates admitting that even to himself. “Have you done it before? With a guy, I mean.”

“No,” Jackson mutters, “but I’ve used my fingers and toys. Just shove a couple of fingers into me, and it’ll be fine. I’m a werewolf, so I can take the pain. I just need…” He tenses slightly before he looks over his shoulder and stares into Stiles’ eyes. “Fuck me, Stiles.”

“You might be able to take it, but you shouldn’t have to,” Stiles says, shaking his head and crawling over to where his bag’s lying on the floor, knocked over in their struggle. He unzips it, pulling out the bottle of lube he carries with him because, well, he likes going out to the preserve and jerking off sometimes, alright? His bedroom is like Grand Central these days with werewolves climbing through his windows at all hours of the night, so he has to find Personal Stiles Time somewhere.

“Fuck, your dick is huge,” Jackson whispers, licking his lips as he stares at Stiles’ dick flopping around as he crawls back towards him. “No wonder you’re such an arrogant little prick. If I had a dick like that, I’d be a smug asshole, too.”

“That’s almost a compliment,” Stiles warns him, preening despite himself. “Anyway, you _are_ a smug asshole, so you know.” He opens the bottle and drizzles the lube directly on Jackson’s tight hole.

“Cold, dumbass!” Jackson wiggles around, moving up to his knees and presenting his ass. “Warm it up next time.”

“Next time?” Stiles arches a brow before he drags his fingers down Jackson’s crack. They’re really doing this. They’re about to have sex in the middle of the locker room after a fight that left him with some bruised ribs and Jackson with a busted lip that’s already healed, stupid werewolf powers. Oh God. They’re going to have sex. He’s going to lose his virginity to Jackson fucking Whittemore in the locker room. And Jackson’s never had anyone fuck him, so it’s like a part of his virginity is being lost, too, and that’s a little overwhelming.

“Damn it, stop thinking. Get those long fingers inside my hole and then fuck me,” Jackson snaps, sounding huffy and annoyed that it’s taking so long.

“Shut up. This is a lot to take in,” he points out, slapping Jackson’s ass cheek hard enough to make his fingers sting. “Your ass is hard.”

“It’s called toned and fit,” Jackson says smugly. “Not flabby like yours.”

“My ass is toned, too, jerkface.” Stiles slaps the other cheek just to make sure it doesn’t get jealous. “I’m not flabby,” he grumbles, crawling over Jackson’s head so he’s in front of him and then shaking his ass for him. “See? Nice and tight.”

Jackson makes a noise that sounds like a whimper mixed with a growl and then his face is suddenly buried between Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles loses his balance, falling to the floor and hitting his cheek against the tile as Jackson puffs hot air against his hole. Then he licks Stiles’ ass, and Stiles cries out because what the hell? And holy shit that feels awesome. Jackson dives in like a starving man at an all you can eat buffet, only Stiles’ ass is the buffet. Jackson’s licking his hole, fingers gripping his ass and pulling his cheeks apart as he drags the flat of his tongue back and forth while sniffing in an animalistic way that’s making Stiles get harder because, well, he’s obviously kinky, alright?

This is something he’s learning about himself today, and he’s okay with that new aspect of his personality. They’re both still sweaty from practice, and Stiles knows he must be smelly, but Jackson doesn’t seem to mind at all. He keeps sniffing and licking at his hole, his tongue tracing the puckered rim. “Oh God,” he moans when Jackson’s tongue actually pushes inside him. He’s watched porn like this before, but he hasn’t really thought about anyone doing it to him because it always seemed maybe a little too much for people outside of porn. Jackson doesn’t agree, obviously, because he’s slurping and licking and snuffling as he eagerly eats Stiles’ ass.

“So good,” Jackson murmurs against his left ass cheek before biting down hard enough to leave a bruise but not breaking skin. He grips Stiles’ hips tightly, leaning down and sucking on his heavy balls, his nose rubbing against his hole, and then his fingers are wrapping around Stiles’ dick. “So fucking huge.” His voice is husky and low as he jerks Stiles’ dick a half dozen times. “Need you inside me. Now.”

“Yeah. Okay. Now.” Stiles’ knees are weak as he crawls over to get the bottle of lube. Jackson moves so he’s leaning against the bench, ass pushed out and wiggling in the air. “God, look at you. You’re like a bitch in heat presenting yourself to me. You want me bad, don’t you? Tell me.”

“Yes,” Jackson spits out, glaring over his shoulder. “I want you. Now quit talking and just fuck me!”

“I should make you ask nicely,” Stiles teases, putting some of the lube into his hand and warming it up this time before letting it drizzle between his cheeks. He touches Jackson’s hole, stroking it like he’s seen in movies, his own hole clenching as he begins to ease a finger inside him. “God, you’re so tight. Uh, do you happen to have any condoms?”

“Yeah, in my bag. Bought some a couple of weeks ago for, uh, just in case. Grab one and then stop playing,” Jackson mutters, pushing his ass back. “I’m tired of waiting. Get that big dick inside me now, damn it.”

“No, you aren’t ready for me yet. I don’t care if you’re a werewolf or not, I’m not fucking you until you’re loose enough for it to not hurt so badly.” Stiles begins to move his finger and out, adding a second finger when he feels Jackson start to take him easier. While he’s fingering Jackson’s ass with one hand, he has to use his foot to grab Jackson’s bag, dragging it closer until he can reach it. He finds the unopened boxed of condoms, curious if they’re Jackson’s size or if he bought them intending to find some guy to fuck him now that he and Lydia aren’t together anymore. It’s none of his business, of course. “This is your first time, and mine, and I’m doing it right. I might not like you all that much, but I’m not going to get off hurting you.”

“This isn’t some flowery romantic virginal first time, dumbass. You don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break,” Jackson tells him, looking over his shoulder and frowning. Stiles pulls his fingers out so he can open the condom, sliding it on with a little difficulty because his dick isn’t shaped like the bananas they used during sex ed. He’s thicker than that, and the condoms aren’t really the right size. Finally, he gets it on, and it’s snug but it’ll do this one time.

“What?” Stiles returns the frown because he’s not sure what Jackson is thinking. He shoves his fingers back into Jackson’s hole, fucking him deeper and watching his face as Stiles keeps fucking into him. When he adds a third, Jackson’s eyelashes flutter and his lips part, his tongue sweeping out to wet them. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Stiles wants to hate him for being so pretty, but it’s turning him on more than he cares to admit that someone like Jackson is on his knees whining for Stiles’ dick. It’s a rush, and it makes him curious what he’d smell in Jackson’s scent when they argue because he has a feeling Jackson enjoys it just like he does.

“I hate you,” Jackson whispers, blue eyes widening slightly as he pushes his ass back against Stiles’ hand. He looks away then, bowing his head against the bench, the arch of his spine and pert ass such an amazing visual that it seriously takes Stiles’ breath away for a moment. And isn’t that embarrassing? This is Jackson, and Stiles can’t remember ever seeing anything prettier than him on his knees with his ass in the air and his hole clenching around air when Stiles pulls his fingers out.

After slicking the condom with lube, Stiles presses the head of his dick against Jackson’s hole. He just stares down at them and blinks, still a little overwhelmed by all this but definitely not having any doubts. He pushes in, groaning as tight heat starts to surround his dick. When he tries to go slow, Jackson just shoves back and takes him fully, his head going back as he keens from how full he must be right now because, well, Stiles _isn’t_ small, even if he’s not ridiculously huge. Stiles leans forward, brushing his lips against Jackson’s neck. “I hate you, too,” he murmurs, kissing the skin beneath Jackson’s ear before he pulls out. Then he thrusts back in.

It feels amazing. Better than anything Stiles has ever been able to imagine. He can’t imagine the feel of tight heat, the slick of lube, the smell of sweat and sex so thick in the air, after all, not without experiencing it first. Jackson’s back is slick against Stiles’ chest, and Stiles reaches around to touch that nipple ring that distracted him earlier. He rubs at it, listening to Jackson whine, obviously sensitive, and that makes Stiles smile wickedly as he starts snapping his hips more forcefully. He tugs at the ring while mouthing Jackson’s shoulder, listening to the noises Jackson is making and enjoying every single moan, groan, and whimper.

Jackson is pushing back to meet his thrusts, rolling his hips and fucking himself on Stiles’ dick. He’s gripping the sides of the bench so hard that Stiles is surprised the wood hasn’t cracked yet, but maybe he’s better at controlling the werewolf side than Stiles realizes. It’s something he’s thought about, especially after the kanima nightmare, but he isn’t going to analyze it right now because it’s difficult to think about anything except how good Jackson’s ass feels around his dick. “I’d talk dirty to you, but I don’t think I’d be that good at it without some time to prepare and practice,” Stiles admits, tugging on Jackson’s nipple ring to make up for his lack of experience.

“Next time.” Jackson is breathing hard, face flushed, lips wet and slightly swollen, and his pupils are dilated when he looks over his shoulder at Stiles. He looks wrecked, and Stiles changes his mind yet again because _this_ is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

Without even thinking about it, he leans down to kiss Jackson. It’s an awkward angle, and he accidentally bites down on his own tongue but then they shift and it’s alright. Jackson licks into his mouth, deepening the kiss almost immediately, sucking on his tongue like he’s sucking his dick, and, fuck, the thought of Jackson sucking his dick makes him buck his hips forward hard. Next time, he tells himself, figuring Jackson wouldn’t keep saying that if he isn’t planning on them fucking again. Stiles doesn’t even realize he’s about to come until his hips are snapping erratically, and there’s no time to even say anything before his body tenses and then he shudders, spilling into the condom as he grunts into the kiss.

Stiles keeps fucking Jackson through his orgasm, realizing that Jackson hasn’t come yet, reaching down to start jerking his dick. Jackson pulls away from the kiss, making those beautiful noises, eyelashes fluttering as he fucks back and forth between Stiles’ dick and hand. Then he’s spilling onto Stiles’ fingers and the ground, whining low in his throat as he comes. Stiles kisses his face, licking at the faint freckles he’s never paid much attention to until today, tracing those sharp cheekbones and curve of his jaw with his tongue. Finally, he straightens up, pulling his dick out of Jackson’s ass and taking the condom off. He ties it before tossing it on the floor near them. He’ll put it in the trash when he feels like he can stand up without his knees giving out.

“Fuck.” He breathes out the word as he stares at Jackson’s ass framed so pretty by the jock strap. His hole is loose and quivering, his back slick with sweat, and his head bowed down onto the bench as he takes a moment to calm down. Stiles can understand because his heart is racing, his dick is spent, and he’s got come on his fingers. Looking at it, he brings his hand to his mouth and licks at it tentatively, not sure if he’s going to like it. It’s odd tasting, kind of bitter, a little salty maybe, but it’s not bad. He sucks that finger clean, glancing up when he hears Jackson whine. Jackson’s staring at him, watching him lick the come off his hand, and Stiles makes a show of it, licking and sucking the other fingers while staring at Jackson.

He’s not really sure where this leaves them because sex changes things. They aren’t friends. They’re more like enemies who have to work together sometimes. Jackson rolls his eyes suddenly and gracefully gets to his feet, the asshole. “You’re thinking again,” he accuses, turning to face Stiles. His dick is spent, hanging loose with the cup of his jock strap shoved to the side, and it’s a pretty dick. Stiles licks his lips, thinking that maybe he’d like to suck it sometime. Jackson smirks as he pushes the jock strap down and steps out of it. “Stop thinking and take a shower. You reek.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Stiles deadpans, getting to his feet and stretching. It’s his turn to smirk when he sees Jackson staring at his dick. He scratches at his lower belly before shoving the jock strap off.

“I’m not sweet.” Jackson shrugs before picking up the condom. He stares at it a minute before he tosses it in the trash can. “Next time, you need to come inside me. I can’t catch anything, and you’re clean, so don’t give me that look. It’s safe, and I want to feel your come in my ass.”

“Maybe.” Stiles isn’t going to commit until he makes sure that not using a condom is safe for both of them. He knows he’s clean, and Jackson’s never been fucked by a guy before. Stiles thinks Jackson had sex with Lydia when they were dating, but he isn’t sure if they were monogamous or not, so he’d rather not take the risk unless he knows Jackson’s right about the werewolf thing meaning no disease transference or risk when it comes to sex. He smiles smugly as he looks at Jackson. “Next time, huh? You like my dick so much you want it again?”

“Maybe,” Jackson mocks, arching a brow as he looks Stiles over. “If you shut up and stop gloating, I’ll suck you off in the shower.”

“Gloating? Me?” Stiles flutters his eyelashes and smiles sweetly as he grabs his towel out of his bag. He walks towards Jackson, stopping when he reaches him and leaning up to bite his bottom lip before licking into his mouth. He pulls away before the kiss can deepen, winking as he walks on to the shower.

Jackson walks past him, bumping into him deliberately just like he’s done in recent weeks. “Watch where you’re going, asshole,” he says, smug smile on his lips when he turns around to face Stiles.

“Fuck you,” Stiles tells him, rolling his eyes as he steps up to the shower head beside Jackson’s. He turns on the faucet, tilting his head back and enjoying the water spraying down on him.

“I’d rather fuck you,” Jackson murmurs, standing right behind him to share the same shower. Jackson leans in to smell his neck, his hands sliding up and down Stiles’ arms as they let the water clean the sweat and lube and come off of them.

Stiles tilts his head to the side, giving Jackson better access to his neck. “Yeah, well, I’d rather fuck you, but I’d also like to find out how that pretty dick of your feels when it’s buried deep inside my ass,” he says with a sly smile. “Next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com) for lots of Stackson & Sterek babbling.
> 
> If you enjoy this, please consider leaving comment/kudos to let me know! I'd be curious if anyone is interested in possibly reading more one shots in this verse because I really like it!


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